Hostage Situation
by with eyes looking up
Summary: She let herself fall. KakashiKonan.


**Hostage Situation**

-

"Hatake Kakashi, Leaf jonin, Copycat Ninja, retired ANBU captain. I would say it is a pleasure to meet you, except that would be a terrible lie," came the frostily feminine voice from the darkest corner of the cell. And despite the cold of the room, the various wounds inflicted upon his body, and the extreme exhaustion that threatened to take him, Kakashi held his head high and peered casually into the black.

"Such a beautiful voice must be attached to an equally beautiful body…" Konan of Amegakure, right hand of the Akatsuki leader, stepped out to gaze down at him; Kakashi feigned a grimace, "…but then again, I have been known to misjudge." A harsh slap – the sound, rather than the sting – made him wince. She, leaning casually against the back of his chair as if nothing happened, stared up at the ceiling pensively.

"One would think to keep their mouth shut in a situation such as this." She mused after a long moment.

He attempted to massage his jaw without the use of his hands. "One would think a woman like you wouldn't be in a situation such as this."

The weight was removed from his back as she walked around, bending down before him until her lips were merely inches from his ear. Her hand played absently with the hair at the base of his neck as she murmured her response. "My circumstances are much different than you would know."

His emotionless gaze slid to the cleavage shown by her low cut shirt as he replied with a sour, "Oh? Care to enlighten?"

The hand at the base of his neck fisted, pulled sharply back until he was arching to her to seek relief. "Not at all, Hatake. Care to enlighten me as to why you were snooping around our base?"

He forced a grin through his wince, "Not at all."

"Che." She let him go viciously, scowled down at him, and promptly left the cell.

--

"Didn't know you smoked," he told her one day, watching as puffed drastically from the small stick nestled between her fingers. Her eyes slid from the smoke to his, lips twitching in amusement.

"Don't do it often. Only when I'm stressed."

"What's there to be stressed over?"

She studied him quietly for a long, painful moment. Took another drag. Smirked. "Want one?"

He inclined his head slightly and watched as she straightened. "Love one. Not much of a smoker myself, but it's not like I'm getting out of here to die from cancer or something." He watched as she freed his hands, handed him one, light it up. He settled into his seat, eyes closing as smoke filled his lungs.

"You aren't running," she observed after a while of silence.

He peered at her, taking another drag through his mask. "Where would I run to?"

She didn't answer.

--

Her eyes snapped up to his angrily. "Damn it, Hatake, stop acting like a child!"

"You're not a very good bedside nurse, you know." He winced at the increased pressure on his leg. His broken leg. "Okay, I get it." He sighed in obvious relief as she continued running a healing hand over his blistering skin.

"Why don't you just tell him what he wants?" she asked later, standing from her kneeling position.

"Where would the fun in that be?" he forced a smile. She rolled her eyes, deciding not to answer.

"I need to remove the mask." her hand reached for the weathered fabric and quickly, he moved his head to the side, evading the movement.

"Not like that," he told her quickly at the annoyed look she sent him. A few moments passed in silence. He sighed, turning to face her again. "Just…slowly."

"Slow-…oh." she bent down, slowly dragging the fabric down, caressing the stubble on his cheeks. "You need a shave," she murmured quietly, letting it fall to his neck. He really was handsome. Their eyes met; his lips twitched.

"I don't suppose-…"

"I don't do that kind of thing," she smiled slightly, "but thanks for asking." Immediately she began healing the crimson lacerations against the pale of his skin, silent.

His eyes remained on hers.

--

"Fuck, _Konan_…"

She smirked against his skin, otherwise silent. He hissed through his teeth, arching against the chair. Fingernails dug painfully into the arms, one of the many signs of the pleasure she was feeding him. She pulled away, tongue running over her lips.

"Yes, Hatake?"

"You're too-…" he took a ragged breath, "…too good at that."

"I beg to differ," she laughed softly; ran a hand gently down his chest.

He swallowed. "Prove me wrong."

Her look was devious. "Of course."

--

Kakashi coughed, and grimaced unhappily at the red staining his lap. "...I'm dying."

She looked up sharply, her lips pulled into a scowl. "You're not. You're just weak." In her hands she held his chart – the chart that directly proved his statement correct, if her eyes weren't so cloudy. He frowned at her from where he sat, sagged against the chair.

"Konan…."

"No, Kakashi. You're fine."

"Konan, I've come so close to dying so many times. This is it."

He could hear her swallow, instinctively following her actions. Silence fell, dark and heavy, upon them. His breath began to wheeze ever-so-slightly, but she diligently ignored it. In the corner of the room, she recorded his status, hands shivering, breaths short and ragged.

_Pain, 1-10: ?_

"Kakashi, how is the pain-?"

She turned, drawing her eyes from the board, and tensed in place.

There, in the chair, sat Hatake Kakashi. His eyes, dull and blank, stared straight past her, as if he was watching her not moments ago. Limply his hands rest against the chair's arms, and as she watched a single drop of blood plunged freely to the ground. His chest remained still.

She tasted salt. Mutely shocked, she reached up and pressed her fingertips to her cheeks. Drew away wetness.

She was crying?

Her eyes remained frozen on the still form of her impromptu lover. Gasps shook her. "Why did you have to be right?" she whispered, softly, and left the room with a gentle closing of the door.

--

Konan stared blankly at the wall, eyes dull. Her hands moved automatically to create a single, perfect crane. The sound of paper crinkled in her ears, but it seemed far away. It was totally silent, and she wondered at the pain gripping her chest. _Maybe I should get that checked._

What's the use? It won't go away.

_You let yourself fall for him, Konan. He was a prisoner on death row, and you fell for him. _

A hand fell to her shoulder, snapping her from her thoughts. "Pein," she murmured sharply, "I'm not in the mood right now."

Soft breaths ghosted across her neck. "I'm not Pein."

Suddenly, the pain exploded. She leapt from her seat into the waiting arms of a tired Kakashi, not quite believing it was him. She held tightly, pressing frenetic kisses to his collar. "Kakashi, Kakashi, Kakashi… I'm so sorry, I didn't…"

He held tighter, smiling a little. "I was faking, Konan, no need to worry." He pulled away to look at her in the eyes, "I want you to come back with me."

"W-what?" She stammered? What?

He frowned at her. "I can't get out of here without you. And you'll be pardoned for helping me. Just say yes – I know you've wanted this."

"You…" she pulled away, reluctantly, "how do you know?"

He chuckled half-heartedly. "You don't have to speak for me to know things, Konan. I can see the way you dread leaving the cell, like you don't want to face what's outside. Even now, when I found you, you didn't want to speak with anyone. I know you've wanted it. Trust me."

Indecision pulled at her. "What if-?"

"We'll be together," his eyes bored into her, "isn't that enough?"

Silence. She sighed softly. "Yes, it is."

He smiled then, and it was breathtakingly beautiful. "Then you'll come?"

She couldn't resist the smile tugging relentlessly against her lips. "I'll go."

And they left.

--

**i should be shot for that last line. :(**


End file.
